


you must like me for me

by patrickbrewer



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode: s04e09 The Olive Branch, Feelings, Happy Ending, Heart-to-Heart, Hopeful Ending, Introspection, M/M, a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 10:33:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20965112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrickbrewer/pseuds/patrickbrewer
Summary: A few hours after David’s extremely embarrassing lip sync, he slides into Patrick’s bed, allowing himself to be pulled back into Patrick’s chest once the light is turned off. Patrick’s heartbeat is steady, thrumming against David’s skin, and normally it would send him right to sleep, but he can’t shake this pressure that’s been building up behind his eyes and in his throat all day. He’s felt on edge for hours, and he doesn’t know how to settle down, to calm the anxiety bruising his insides.





	you must like me for me

**Author's Note:**

> so a couple days ago i saw [this post](https://patrickbrewcr.tumblr.com/post/188206322545/davidpatricks-patrickbrewcr-schittsgay) about how no one really cared that david went missing at the beginning of season 2 and how horrible that must have felt for him, and it really put his actions in the olive branch in perspective for me. i just feel like i understand him a lot better now, and i needed to write about it, so here this is.
> 
> (title from delicate by taylor swift)

A few hours after David’s extremely embarrassing lip sync, he slides into Patrick’s bed, allowing himself to be pulled back into Patrick’s chest once the light is turned off. Patrick’s heartbeat is steady, thrumming against David’s skin, and normally it would send him right to sleep, but he can’t shake this pressure that’s been building up behind his eyes and in his throat all day. He’s felt on edge for hours, and he doesn’t know how to settle down, to calm the anxiety bruising his insides. 

Because as much as he wants to, he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get why Patrick chased after him in the first place, why he sent him those gifts, and those texts, and those reassurances that he was there, waiting. He doesn’t get why Patrick wants him, and how he can stay when no one else ever had before him. Because he meant it when he said, “I’m damaged goods.” He always has been. There’s no other explanation for the way he’s always been treated. Every single person he’s ever cared about has eventually pushed him aside, stopped calling and texting, stopped smiling when he walked into a room. 

But Patrick knows things about him, things that he’s never dared to tell anyone, things that he _ has _ and immediately faced the consequences for. There’s something about Patrick that opens him up like automatic doors. Whenever they’re in close proximity he can’t help it, his lips part and he tells, reveals, exposes. He spills like ink, staining the ground they stand on until he’s sure Patrick will slip into the darkness of his past and never return. 

But that’s the thing, he never does. He stays put, through every ridiculous story and heart-wrenching tale. He stays when David is in a bad mood, and when he’s just woken up and doesn’t look like his usual polished self, and when he refuses to sweep the floors, or rearrange products, or watch a movie he doesn’t like.

He keeps giving Patrick outs, opportunities to get away before he’s in too deep to see just how broken David is, and still, he’s here.

“No one’s ever done that for me before,” David whispers into the quiet of the room, unable to help it. His heart is racing, pounding against his sternum as though it’s attempting to escape, to fly right out the window and never return. Because he’s not used to people caring like this, not used to being sought after and apologized to and fought for. 

He’s not used to meaning so much to someone. 

“I know, David,” Patrick replies softly. “You told me.” 

“No,” David insists, turning so that he’s facing Patrick. He can barely make out his features in the dark, so he reaches forward and intertwines their fingers, needing something to ground him. “No one has ever spent this much time with me, or expressed any interest in knowing me at all. Not even my own family. I ran away like 20 times when I was younger and no one came looking for me for hours. In high school I stole the jet a couple times and my parents weren’t worried, they were just mad I ruined their travel plans. When I left this town in Roland’s truck and ended up running out of gas, Alexis didn’t even answer my texts and I was stranded for 3 days. The only people who actually seemed concerned were Stevie and Ted, and Stevie very clearly told me she wished I didn’t come back when I saw her, and Ted probably only cared because he’s like the nicest human being on the planet. So when I say that no one has ever been this kind to me, or cared that I was upset, I mean it.” 

The pressure suddenly becomes too much and his eyes fills with tears, blurring his vision and clogging his throat. He presses his face into his pillow, trying not to sob as Patrick squeezes his hand. 

“Hey,” Patrick whispers, shifting so he’s sitting up. He reaches back with his free hand and tugs on the lamp switch, flooding the room with light. “Come here.” 

David twists his lips to the side, desperately trying to hold his feelings in, and sits up, squinting against the brightness. Patrick pulls him in, arms wrapping tightly around him. He presses his face into Patrick’s neck, shakily breathing in the fresh scent of soap on his skin. 

“I’m sorry,” David says, voice muffled, “for treating you that way. I just didn’t know how to react to someone…”

“Someone what?” Patrick asks after a moment, running a hand down David’s back. 

“Wanting me,” he finishes, barely audible. 

Patrick pulls in a deep breath, chest rising against David’s own. He’s warm and solid, and David doesn’t know how he ever lived without this, without the steadiness of _ Patrick_. 

“I’ll always want you,” he says, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world, as if it doesn’t pierce through David’s skin painfully just to inject him with euphoria. “Even when you think you don’t deserve it. You know why?”

David leans back, meeting Patrick’s gaze with a tiny smile and shaking his head. 

“Because you _ do _ deserve it. Because you deserve to be wanted for who you are, not for who anyone else wants you to be. You deserve the benefit of the doubt, and to make mistakes, and to have someone waiting for you when you run away.” 

David isn’t really sure how to answer that, but he ends up not having to, because Patrick leans in and kisses him softly. 

_ I love you_.

The words rise in his mind, loud and sudden like a storm’s first clap of thunder, and he’s glad his mouth is already occupied, because he needs a lot more time to unpack that, to convince himself that Patrick would even want to hear it. 

“Okay?” Patrick asks when he pulls back, eyes warm. 

David nods, lips turning up at the edges as Patrick brushes his fingers across his cheek, slow and reassuring. 

And for once, despite every insecurity gnawing at his insides, daring him to give in, he really does think he’ll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on tumblr and twitter @patrickbrewcr!


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